One phone call,
One bombshell.
(Life is full of shocks and surprises.)

Ten thousand words, due one week's notice,
Candidature defense next week.
(You can do it, roomie!)

My ten to fifteen pages pales,
Discolours in comparison.
(Same deadline, the first of a string.)

Two postgrads permanently stationed in front of laptops,
The combined academic output rockets sky-high.
(Guess which room...)

Final few weeks of the semester,
Two disciplines, Third Sem and First Sem, respectively.
(Nod and How d'ye do.)

There's something about entering the hall together as a procession, that is not worth being late for.

I finally met, in person, the fellow L's whose names I always saw under/after my own in namelists at the faculty dean's office when collecting examination slips, results, and so forth.

I observed: Many people forgot to smile whilst on stage.
Dad observed: I was the one who forgot to stop smiling.

For the first time in the history of my mobile phone usage, my inbox was full and new incoming messages could not come in. (Thank you, :P)

There's something about waking up to a pretty little garden at your bedside. :)

I attended a total of 2 convocation ceremonies (including my own), 5 post-convocations, 1 grand celebration dinner (clashed head-on with an otherwise second dinner, unfortunately), and 3 photo shoots.

Many thanks to my current roomie for fitting up my robe the night before, Stephanie for make-up consultation & artistry, and Benjamin for everything photography.

Albums here, here, and here.

Much love to the gals (and one guy) who graduated with that B.A. in English Literature...

...As well as the roomies, college mates, PKVians, and others, who made up the rest of my undergraduate life.

She dreamt of this day.
Someone thought it'd be cute to take a picture of me in my dad's M.A. graduation hood and mortar board. Too bad I closed my eyes.

The great Michael William sits down beside me.

"Have you found love?"

"What is love?"

"Don't give me existential questions."

"You always tell me to get a life, not find love."

Genuine surprise in tea candles, 'cheesecake', and the swing ride of my life.
'Tis since known, I rarely let an empty swing pass me by.

Receding shoreline reveals delayed moisture line; it's the beach equalizer.
Nocturnal shoreline marked by luminous blue plankton.

Ever wonder what it's like to be a creature of the waves, riding in and out with the tide?
He just wonders what it's like to be a creature of light.

Lying on rocks like beached whales,
Turn my head, fix my eyes on the vertical horizon...and my mind on what lay beyond.

Thought at breakfast: Somewhere in the world, it's dinnertime.
Thought at dinner: If you drink too much limau panas, will you pickle your stomach?
Thence earned the title of Random Number Generator.

Sotong bakar and little bowls of laksa,
Ikan bakar and Ribena berry juice.

Secret mermaid cove, guerilla tunnels and crabs in a tidepool,
And that window into Never, Neverland.

Clutch a snorkel mask like an otter, kick-waves frothing in my ear,
What bliss to drift in the sea, fingertips trailing in the sand.

Went for a reunion lunch for my parents and (part of) their gang way back from UM CF days. Old friends one table, children (that's me!) another table.


The children's table.

These reunions typically happen when one family is back from the U.S.A. for holiday, in particular, my childhood friends Cindy and Catherine (and younger brother who was born after I left). Actually, I've always, and still do, call them by their Chinese names. Lotsa memories of playing at their house, as well as an outing to the zoo, among others.


Full version of the camel picture some of you may recognize. The girl behind me is Cindy.


One Christmas.


Cindy and my sister share the same birth date. I would have been seven here.

The last reunion was more than ten years ago, a 3D2N retreat at a private beach in Port Dickson. The adults would have their own sessions, whilst the children (I was eleven) would play on the beach literally all day. Since Cindy, Catherine, and I knew only each other at the reunion, we played separately from the other (majority) kids. We were all making sandcastles.

And the well-told story goes like this: There was this boy (a year younger than I) from the other group, who would keep coming over to our side with loads of attitude and nasty things to say, especially about our sandcastle. He even stomped down one of our walls! (This fragment recalled by Cindy and Catherine.) He was such an obnoxious nuisance that I often complained to his parents about him whom I only knew as "Su Ann's brother" or "Uncle ___'s son".

Fast forward many years later, I met Shern Ren at dNA. Nice, smart boy. One evening after camp, I happened to mention him at the dinner table and, being such a unique name, my mom went, "Shern Ren, Uncle __'s son?" I was pleasantly surprised that our parents knew each other, but right the next second, it dawned on me...


Disclaimer: Shern Ren has long since grown up to be a decent and sociable, albeit crazy, scientist, a mushy poet, and a caring friend. *wink*


Sandcastle gang. (Shern Ren looks sooooo innocent here. ;P)